Summer Camp
by malcolm lake
Summary: Jim tells Pam a story about a summer camp and his first love


Summer Camp

These are not my characters. Heavy sigh.

Pam and Jim had been dating for one month today, so they were having lunch at Cuginos. Their waitress was a very pretty blonde girl. Pam knew the effect pretty blonde girls had on guys. But Jim, while polite, never let his eyes wander from his girlfriend. Smiling, Pam asked. "Jim, how many times have you been in love?"

"Besides now?" he asked, enjoying the blush in Pam's cheeks.

"Yeah."

Jim thought for a moment then said, "Well, I guess, looking back. Maybe once."

"What was she like?"

Jim looked up at Pam and smiled, obviously enjoying the memory. "Well, Beesly. She was the girl that made me the person I am today. Under her influence I disgraced my parents, was permanently banned from camp, and was grounded for 17 months. I never had the chance to thank her."

"Really," Pam asked, eyes wide. Suddenly it seemed like she was a million miles away.

"And I would tell you about her, but as it is we're going to be late getting back and I think you're going to want to see what I've set up."

-------------

"I don't believe what you did to Dwight's bobblehead," Pam said, scandalized.

"I was just making sure that it will last forever," Jim protested. "Besides, I wanted to do something special for our anniversary."

"Encasing the bobblehead in a clear acrylic mold was just so wrong," Pam continued. "Even if he did try to confiscate my sketching pencils yesterday."

"Well, whatever happens, the look on his face was worth it. We still on for tonight?"

"Yeah," Pam answered, distracted. She stared at Jim as they got into the elevator. Noticing the look on her boyfriend's face, she said, "Sorry, just went away for a minute. Uh, there's this thing I need to do tonight. Can you come by a little later, maybe nine or so?"

"I thought we were going out to dinner," Jim replied, a little surprised.

"I'll cook. I'm sorry but…"

"Don't be," Jim said hurriedly. "I understand. Is nine okay? I mean, we can do this tomorrow if you'd…"

"Nine will be fine." She kissed him and they got into their cars and left.

Jim came by with flowers. After dinner, Pam and Jim were sitting on the couch in her apartment. Pam said casually, "So, you mentioned that you were banned from summer camp? What kind of a kid were you?"

Jim smiled, secretly pleased that Pam had brought it up. "I'll have you know that I started out as a repulsively good little boy. My grandmother wanted me to become a minister. That's why they sent me to a church camp when I was twelve."

"So what happened?" Pam asked.

"I met her," Jim said, simply.

"A girl?" Pam teased.

"Yes, Beesly, a girl. And not just a girl, the girl.

"Tell me the story," Pam asked, leaning back into the couch facing Jim.

"Long or short version?" Jim asked.

"I want to hear it all," Pam said with certainty as she grabbed a cushion and settled back.

Jim turned slightly on the couch so he was facing her. "Well, let's see. Did you ever go to summer camp?"

"Yeah, I went one summer," Pam said.

"Then you can probably imagine what it was like. We were in the mountains. There were trout in the streams. The camp itself was this cluster of cabins, boys on the right girls on the left. I had one big suitcase, a sleeping bag, and two canteens. I think the campers were 10 to 13 years old. Funny thing, I was probably the smallest guy there."

"Poor little Jim," Pam said.

"It was Jimmy, then. I really didn't start growing until I was 14 or so. There were about 100 campers; maybe a 50/50 split of boys to girls. The kids were signed in one at a time. When each kid was assigned to a cabin, the councilor and all of those also assigned to the cabin, applauded. I couldn't figure out which was worse, having strangers clap for you, or having to be one of the poor saps applauding. I decided to hang back."

"Shy?" Pam asked.

"Well, I was then. My councilor's name was Tommy or Timmy, something like that. He was a twitchy guy, kind of like Dwight. He had this vein that stood out on his forehead. He made us march up the hill to our cabin. There were 10 boys to a cabin, and one cabin was empty. Turns out a girl's cabin was empty, too."

"The cabins had a room for the campers and another for the councilor. The big room had maybe six or seven rows of bunk beds. I chose a lower bunk. Mistake number one as it turned out, but that's for later. The big thing was the page of rules that was posted beside the door; they gave demerits if you messed up. I think profanity was 5 demerits, so was failing to make your bed. Taking God's name in vain was 10 demerits, being caught kissing a girl was 20, and failure to attend the evening church service they called Vespers was 25. If you had more than 30 demerits, you had laundry duty for the week."

"We went down to the dining hall for dinner. It seems like most of my cabin mates knew each other, so I sat by myself during the meal. I looked around at the other campers. Many of the girls were paired off in cliques, too. As I looked around, I saw one girl sitting by herself. She had long, curly brownish blonde hair and was wearing stained overalls and a white tee shirt that had Snoopy on it. She looked sad, sitting off by herself."

"Poor thing," Pam said. "You remember her after all these years. That's sweet."

"Careful Beesly," Jim cautioned. "You're talking about my dream girl. Anyway, after dinner, there was free time. Several of the guys were throwing around a softball. Even though I was short, I was still more into basketball than softball, so I guess I wasn't as good as those guys. After the first few throws, they stopped tossing me the ball. I took the hint and walked down to the river and skipped stones."

"As I walked up the bank, I saw the girl again. She had set up an easel and was painting a landscape of the stream. She had tied her hair in a pony tail and there were paint smudges on her cheek, hands, and T shirt. I asked if I could join her, and she shrugged. She said that her name was PJ."

"Unfortunate nickname possibilities there," Pam observed.

"Yeah, I guess so," Jim agreed. "Anyway, the last time I'd seen anyone painting, the word 'finger' was included, so it was pretty interesting to me. I thought she was really good. She wasn't happy with the painting, though. I guess all you artistic types are alike."

"Maybe so," Pam allowed. "What was she unhappy about?"

Jim searched his memory. "I think she didn't believe her tree was friendly enough. It wasn't inviting folks to sit down beside it. Turns out she was from Scranton and about a year younger than me. Her folks had sent her to camp because her grandmother was sick and her mom needed to help take care of her. She mentioned that she had a dog and asked if I wanted to see a picture. I remember thinking she was going to pull a canvas out of her coveralls, but it was just a photograph."

"Anyway, she asked me if I was going to do any crafts, because that was her favorite thing."

"And when a pretty girl asks Jim Halpert if he's going to do something…" Pam teased.

"Fair enough," Jim agreed. "I remembered that I'd brought a camera, so I said I was going to take some pictures. She didn't sound too impressed."

"I went back to the cabin and got out my camera. I had seven shots left in the roll I was shooting and four more rolls in my suitcase. I took some pictures of the campground, including the tree that had given her such a hard time when she tried to paint it."

"That evening there was a short service. We had to sing songs and then we were given candles. We lit the candles and marched down the hill. All of the boys gathered on one side of the dining hall, and the girls on the other. We sang taps and then blew out the candles. I took a picture of the girls while the candles were burning. I used the stone beside the bell to steady my hand. In the twilight, it took a slow shutter to get the shot."

"So you actually knew something about photography?" Pam asked.

"Just a little. Okay, now what can I say about my first night at camp? I guess it would be best to just list a few of the items that contributed to a miserable evening and be done with it. Here goes: young boys, smaller boy, a lot of baked beans."

"Oh," Pam grimaced.

"Yeah. The next morning I moved my sheets and stuff to the upper bunk. The bell rang at six in the morning. I went to breakfast early to avoid things. Afterwards, I went to the craft cabin with PJ. She was still trying to make her tree friendlier."

"PJ's councilor was in charge of the crafts cabin. She was a young woman named Terri that was cute but really shy; I mean she even had trouble talking to me. Terri worked with some of the girls who wanted to do needlepoint. PJ was painting. I was the only guy. I thought that I might end up having to glue macaroni on paper plates, but fortunately they had a small dark room."

"When I processed the negatives, I found that there were three shots that looked like they might be interesting: one of the singing, another was a picture of a tree, and the third was a picture of PJ by her easel. I decided to make them into prints. I asked her if she wanted to watch me print the negatives, but she wasn't interested. So I made the prints. When I took them out of the dark room, PJ was still painting."

"PJ came over and looked at the pictures. The first print was the tree. She seemed surprised by it. She noticed that I made the tree look taller by taking the picture straight up the trunk."

"Then she saw her picture, and immediately started saying how bad she looked. I couldn't see what she was talking about. Her hair was pulled back and she had some paint smudges on her chin, but that just showed she was working. I thought that she looked cool. I finally convinced her to take the picture so her folks could see what she did at camp."

"PJ and I started talking, and I remember her saying that she hadn't thought that much about what you could do with pictures. That she preferred painting because you could make the world exactly as you wanted it to be." Jim turned to Pam and asked, "Is that how it is with you?"

"Definitely," Pam agreed.

"We ended up going to lunch together and I sat with her while we were talking. My councilor came up and told me to get over to my table and gave me five demerits for abandoning my cabin."

"Definitely some Dwight-like tendencies," Pam agreed.

"By the time I got back to the cabin, there were two new rules: the first was that campers would always sit with their cabin during any mealtime activities, and the second was that arguing with a councilor was punishable by 10 demerits. I was inching closer to laundry duty with each passing minute."

"That afternoon, my councilor came into the craft cabin. He asked my why I hadn't shown up for Bible Study. Apparently each cabin spent time after lunch once a week in these sessions. I hadn't heard the announcement, so I got another five demerits. I remember him going on like Dwight about how this was the worst thing in the world that I could possibly do, then he caught a glimpse of Terri the councilor and suddenly began to stutter. Terri had been looking at him, but lowered her eyes immediately when he looked her way."

"Aw, sounds like Dwight and Angela," Pam said.

"You know about them?" Jim asked.

"That's a story for another time," Pam said. "Get back to yours."

"Fine, be that way. When PJ and I were heading to dinner, I told her how close I already was to laundry duty. She thought about it for a minute and asked if I had seen how the two councilors had acted and that she thought they liked each other. She said that if they decide they want to spend time together, it might be easier for me to spend more time in the crafts cabin and I might get in less trouble."

"So she was pretty and smart, too," Pam observed.

"She was a genius," Jim agreed. "I mentioned to the guy that Terri thought he was cute. The next day, and every day for the rest of the week, my councilor managed to find some reason to go to the craft cabin. Of course, I still got laundry duty.

"So, that's where you got your love of fabric softener," Pam laughed.

"Probably," Jim agreed. "Anyway, I believe that what happened that night was not my fault." Even after all these years, Jim still managed to look defensive. "I did not tell my councilor to meet Terri after hours. I didn't tell him to buy the bottle of Boone's Farm Apple Wine that they drank. And I definitely had nothing to do with them falling asleep naked in the dining hall."

"By the time I made it down the hill from the boy's cabins the next morning, my councilor and Terri had been 'relieved.' There was an announcement during breakfast. They didn't want to replace the fired councilors, so everyone in my cabin and PJ's was told to move to another cabin."

"PJ and I sat together. Both of us were dreading having to find a bunk in a new cabin. Neither of us felt particularly wanted. Finally, I said that it was too bad that we can't share a cabin. Nobody would really miss us. And so we did."

"So you shared a cabin?" Pam asked, a strange look in her eyes.

"Yeah, one of the girl's cabins was a little away from the others and it was empty. So we moved in. I got sheets from the laundry and we hung blankets over the windows when it was dark so they couldn't see the lights from outside."

"That night we turned off the lights and played dueling flashlights. PJ got a bad case of the giggles, and I was sure that we were going to get caught, but I guess that nobody came near the cabin. We talked for hours, before PJ went to the councilor room to change and I got ready for bed. We pushed together two of the bunk beds and each had an upper. I set my alarm clock for 5:30. That way I could get up and get over to the boy's bathroom before anybody was around. I would take my clothes and dress before breakfast, then go down the boy's hill to the dining hall."

"You had it all planned out," Pam observed.

"It was a learning experience," Jim said. "The first morning worked as scheduled. I used my flashlight to make sure that I didn't trip on the way to the bathroom. I finished my shower just as the morning bell rung. I then went over to the laundry room, tossed my pajamas into the pile, and put my name on the list for laundry detail. I listed my name, said that I currently had 40 demerits (which seemed to be a believable total given my recent history) and was at the dining hall in time to meet PJ."

"That night after supper, there was a sing along. Bad versions of singer-songwriter tunes followed by strange children's songs and hymns. The song I remember the most is the sipping cider one. I made a mental note to avoid straws."

"I've noticed that," Pam said. "You never use a straw."

"I am nothing if not consistent. Anyway, Billy Thompson, the big guy from my former cabin, came over during the singing and said hello to PJ. She seemed surprised, and a little flustered by his attention. Looking back, I guess I was jealous. Afterwards, PJ and I sneaked back to our cabin. She mentioned that Billy lived near her. And that in three years he'd be able to drive."

"For some reason, I really wanted to make myself sound better than him. So I told her I could hot wire a car."

"I thought you were a good boy," Pam said.

"Well, one of the guys that worked with my dad drove an old Ford Pinto. The car was older than me. He had bought it for fifty bucks. It didn't have a key, so he used the ignition wires to start it. One day when my dad took me to work, he had left me this guy for the afternoon while he dealt with an employee issue. He must have thought that it would be funny to teach the boss's kid a few things. So I learned how to pick a padlock, and how to start his car. Those skills have served me well at Dunder Mifflin. Unfortunately, I didn't have my lock pick at camp. It's amazing the things you forget when you pack."

"Anyway, PJ and I spent the next two weeks together. It was fun. We'd spend the days in the crafts cabin and the nights just hanging out. One night we wrapped seven rolls of toilet paper around the bell so that the next morning it wouldn't make any noise."

"Your first prank," Pam said with excitement.

"I guess it was," Jim admitted. We had so much fun. It wasn't like was talked about that much, just about her dog and our families. She talked about being an artist and I wanted to play basketball with the Sixers."

"Billy kept hanging around her, though. And I didn't know what to do about it. When he was there, PJ was like another person."

"You said you loved her," Pam said.

"Looking back I guess I did. I mean I was twelve. I didn't understand. I remember we took a nap one afternoon. We took down the blankets so the light could come in and we slept beside each other. I woke up and she was still sleeping. I wished I could just stay right there, at that minute, forever." Jim shook his head. "It was silly."

"No it wasn't," Pam said, reaching out and taking his hand.

"Then one afternoon PJ wasn't in the crafts cabin after lunch. I walked back towards the dining hall and saw her and Billy together. He tried to kiss her. She saw me and pushed him away and I jumped on him. It was one of those kid fights that last about thirty seconds. That's when it hit the fan. One guy broke up the fight and asked me and PJ who our councilors were. We didn't have an answer for that particular question. Then they found out where we were staying."

"By the end of the afternoon, I had four hundred and sixty demerits. It was assumed that I was to blame and there was no reason to make it any harder on PJ. As it was she had two hundred demerits. Later that evening, I saw the updated demerits list. It was now just short of three pages long."

"The weird thing is that what they assumed was so much worse than what we did. We were two kids who just wanted to hang out together, nothing more. It wouldn't have occurred to me to even hold her hand, much less try items thirty-three through forty-two on the demerits list. I had to look three of them up in the dictionary when I got home."

"In any event, PJ and I were assigned to new cabins. They read out where we were supposed to go. We were forbidden from seeing each other and told that our parents would be notified of our behavior. That was far worse than any penalty the camp could give. That night, all I could see were the disappointed faces of my mom and dad. I picked a bottom bunk by the window, but I couldn't get to sleep."

"Around four, I got up and sat on the porch at the front of the cabin. I heard a noise. It was PJ. I guess she'd remembered where I was assigned. Anyway, she'd been crying. She said that the other girls were teasing her. I told her that we should run away. I just wanted to do something to make her feel better."

"There were several cars in the parking lot. As luck would have it, I didn't need to demonstrate my auto theft skills. One of the cars was unlocked with the keys in the ignition. I started the motor and tried to find the lights. Finally, we slowly and unsteadily headed out towards the road. After about a mile, PJ screamed at me. I'd ran a red light. I hadn't thought to look up for traffic signals."

"You must have been really scared."

"You have no idea. Anyway, after the traffic light thing, we argued for the next few miles. It seems that we had no idea where we were, or where we wanted to go. Then we came across a road sign that said, "Scranton 90 miles." It pointed to the right."

"PJ grabbed the wheel and turned. Perhaps that was not the best thing that she could have done. I swerved and finally managed to stop the car. She wanted to go home, so we did. We managed to find her house just after noon. We didn't notice PJ's mother, standing in the corner of the yard as if she was waiting for somebody. She called out as we got out of the car; she looked really mad."

"We went to the house, and PJ's mom put me in her room while she spoke to PJ somewhere else for what seemed to be hours, then she came and asked me some questions. She was different from the folks at the camp. She actually listened to my answers. After a while, she didn't seem all that upset anymore. She almost seemed to be laughing at the whole thing."

"A guy from the camp came by with PJ's dad while we were talking. My parents showed up about an hour later. They didn't seem to be quite as calm about things as PJ's mom. The parents talked while I stayed in a bedroom. I still didn't know where PJ was. Finally my dad came and got me. The guy from the camp said that they would not be pressing charges for "borrowing" the car. I found out much later that this was not so much a concession as a means of avoiding a lawsuit. It seems that losing track of two kids for a couple of weeks was not something the camp wanted to have spread around. Go figure."

"It was also mutually agreed that PJ and I would be avoiding camp for the next 20 years or so. PJ waved to me as I rode away in my parent's car."

"It was when school started that I learned the full extent of my infamy. The first day of class, one kid came up to me and asked about camp. It seems his sister had been there during the summer. Apparently, the demerits list had been extended to four pages, and the campers were told that my total demerits for the summer tallied exactly 666. I guess that made me the Anti-camper. My grandmother never mentioned me being a minister again."

"So that's it," Pam said. "You never saw her after that day?"

"No. I never even knew her last name. I wonder whatever happened to her," Jim said wistfully. "The funny thing is, by ourselves we were just a couple of lonely kids. But when we got together…"

"You had something special," Pam said. "I understand. She got up from the couch and grabbed an old photo album. "So, do you want to see a picture of me during my camping days?"

"Sure," Jim replied, leaning forward and looking at the page she was pointing to. "But that's…" He leaned back on the couch, stunned. "P-Pam, what is your middle name?"

"Jean," Pam said with a smile.

"This is the picture I took of her. That was you?"

"I always knew that there was something familiar about you," Pam said. "I finally figured out it was your eyes. It wasn't until you told me about being banned from camp that it all came together. I mean you were really short."

Jim was looking at Pam, utterly unable to say anything.

"I wanted to find the photo album so I could be sure." She looked at her boyfriend's silent face. "Are you okay?"

"It was you," Jim managed. "It was always you."

"I guess so. My hair got darker when I was fourteen."

Finally Jim was able to smile. "Our kids are going to get in so much trouble at summer camp," he laughed.

"Probably," Pam agreed.


End file.
